


Last Resort

by SoftObsidian74



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftObsidian74/pseuds/SoftObsidian74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What on earth could possibly make Severus Snape kiss Hermione Granger?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Resort

She groaned in frustration once more. He felt his patience for her little angry sounds waning with each passing minute.

“Honestly, you’d think they would have owled by now! They just left us here; we haven't heard from anyone in days!” she complained, keeping her cadence as she paced.

Severus took in a deep breath, watching her pace the tattered floor back and forth. He fought every fiber of his being not to reach up and shake her. She had gotten on his last nerves days ago. He was just barely surviving in his own private hell. He was stuck at the Order's Headquarters with Hermione Granger, of all people.

“I'm leaving! I have to find them!” she said for the ten thousandth time.

“Impossible,” he replied wearily. “Our orders were to remain here until the first team returned.”

“I know that!” she yelled.

”Really, Miss Granger--”

“Will you stop calling me that? My name is Hermione! We're not at Hogwarts anymore! I'm an adult now, not your bloody student!”

“Your temperament suggests otherwise,” Severus replied coolly.

Hermione bared her teeth at him.

It wasn’t a pretty sight, especially since hers were so prominent. Still, despite her buckteeth and wild hair, he couldn’t deny that she had blossomed into quite an alluring young lady. 

‘Being trapped in confined quarters with someone will do the strangest things to one’s standards’, he reasoned bitterly, scolding himself for appreciating the rise and fall of her breast with every switch and turn she made before him. 

Watching her pace had become almost relaxing, much more so than watching the clock.

“Are you watching me?” she asked accusingly. 

He refused to reply to that. 

“It's absolutely creepy!”

“Then I suggest you stop pacing.”

“I can't! I should be out there, fighting!”

“If you want to die prematurely, I won't object.”

She stopped pacing, glowering at him. “You know what we should have done?”

Here we go again.

“We should have split into four units. If it were up to me, I would have split the teams up so that Tonks, Ron, and Moody went first. The second team would have been you, Arthur, and—”

He couldn’t take it anymore; the pacing, the planning, the should-have, would-have, could-have beens. She didn’t notice when he stood up and made his way over to her. Once she did, it was too late; he was standing next to her. Her mouth was open, ready to form another annoying question, and it was all he could think of to shut her up. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer, leaning in to press his lips firmly against hers.

She tasted of cinnamon, scotch, and something feminine that his mental potions’ vocabulary could find no simile for.

It wasn’t unpleasant, not in the least. In fact, he found himself reluctantly pulling away.

Her mouth hung open in shock. “What the hell?”

“You’re clever enough to recognize a kiss, Miss Granger.”

Hermione was speechless.

Mission accomplished.


End file.
